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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29776206">My Name is -</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOriginalCowboyCat/pseuds/TheOriginalCowboyCat'>TheOriginalCowboyCat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Destiny Shorts [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Destiny (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>I don't know what to tag this, no real tags are needed?, thats it, the guardian tells zavala their new name</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:41:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>731</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29776206</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOriginalCowboyCat/pseuds/TheOriginalCowboyCat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Guardian tells Zavala their name</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Destiny Shorts [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050665</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>My Name is -</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p></p><div class="">
  <p>There’s a soft knock on the door to his office, he does his best to ignore it but to no avail, finally lifting his gaze away from the mountains of paperwork on his desk with a tired sigh. He wonders if it’s Saladin with news about the Cabal, or Amanda with intel on their movements, or even Ikora, silently stopping by to check on him, or ask for updates on the whole situation. Selfishly he wishes to be left alone, to not have to deal with the Cabal, or the Darkness, or the Hive... but the City is counting on him and he will not fail them. He has failed one too many times.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He summons them in with a forced sense of hospitality, eyes widening when the door is gently pushed open, and the Guardian themself enters. They do not dawn a helmet, freely showing off the face very few get to see, their lips drawn in a tight, unemotional line. They are tense, nervous, and uncomfortable; standing awkwardly in the doorway until he motions them forward. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They take a few tentative steps towards him, the door clicking closed with a low thud that bounces off the walls, before the room returns to its quiet state. They do not speak, nor does their Ghost present himself.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“If you are here for another fight-” he says to them.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When was the last time they spoke? When he discovered them continuing to galivant across Europa for some unknown reason? When they said they were unable to tell him <em>who</em> the mysterious Lightbearer was? When they'd admitted that the Darkness had begun speaking to them in the voices of dead friends and enemies on the Glykon, but refused to relay the message?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He knows he is being left in the dark on purpose but is unable to determine why.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“-I do not have it in me today...”.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They swallow audibly and shift on their feet, a look of shame pulling their focus to the floor. Hopefully, they are wise enough to leave him be, let bygones be bygones.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That’s not why I’m here,” they say quietly, a hint of an accent hiding on the edges of their words, “I’m not here to fight,”.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He stares at them for a moment and blinks once, then again, and then a third time, wordlessly gesturing to the set of chairs in front of him. They are not known to speak openly like this, nor to anyone other than their Ghost, allowing him to be their voice. But the Ghost is silent... hidden.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He watches them as they sit, hardly able to keep still for more than a few seconds, a trait that seemed synonymous amongst Hunters. “Then tell me,” he says slowly, “What brings you here?”.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They continue to fidget, taking a few breaths to steady themself. “I need to update my Vanguard registration files,” they finally say, the words spilling past their lips, “... please”.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He raises an eyebrow. The paperwork confirming them as the new Hunter Vanguard had been filed a week ago, everything had been updated down to the very last detail, from hair color to body weight. So why would they-</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s nothing big... just-” their words taper off for a moment, “There’s just been some recent... <em>developments</em> in my life,”.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He’s curious now, but he has always been fascinated by the Guardian sitting before him, even now as waves of anxiety waft off of them. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“May I ask what this... <em>development</em> is?”.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They let out a strained chuckled and nod, telling him that, for the past 6 years, the City and its people had only known them as nothing more than the <em>Guardian, the Young Wolf, Hivebane</em>...and now as the new Hunter Vanguard<em>.</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I want to change that,” they say.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Curiosity and confusion clash in his mind for a moment as he tries to make sense of what he is being told. Are they saying...?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’ve chosen a name for myself,”.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Actually, <em>I</em> picked it,” their Ghost says quietly from within their backpack, earning a sharp <em>hush</em> from his Guardian, “Buuut, I digress”.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“A name...” he says aloud, a chuckle escaping him as a sincere smile pulls at his lips, “I congratulate you. Well... let’s hear it,”.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They return his smile, something close to giddiness replacing the anxious demeanor they sported moments ago.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It's Faolan..." they say, "My name is Faolan".</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
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